


Homespun Concerts

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: Lucy likes to sing in the shower. So, apparently, does her neighbor.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Homespun Concerts

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://letmetellyouaboutmyfeels.tumblr.com/post/181250629713/prompt-get-to-it-whenever-theres-absolutely-no

Lucy isn’t really fond of her apartment. It’s small and old, and she’s not allowed to paint the walls according to her landlord, and the pipes are contrary. But she makes do. It’s what she can afford while she saves up for a proper place, because renting a cardboard box to live in in San Francisco costs a fucking kidney, and since she’s refusing the Cahill-Preston money and would frankly rather die of frostbite while homeless in a New York blizzard or something dramatic like that before she accepted said money… here she is.

One thing about her apartment? The walls are thin in places, especially the bathroom.

So when she’s in the shower, or brushing her teeth, sometimes, she’ll hear her neighbor on the other side turning on his shower–and she’ll hear quiet singing.

He’s got a low gravelly voice, and tends to sing older songs. Lucy feels stupid for it but she loves listening in. It’s… a soothing voice, and okay, maybe she’s lonely, but she likes to think that the man who has that voice is a nice guy, maybe… tall… his face changes depending on whatever actor she’s most recently decided is good looking, but still. A little daydreaming never hurt anyone, right?

She sings in the shower too, of course, always has, and she thinks her voice isn’t too bad, but she’s not even thinking about the possible connection until she comes home from a really shit day and wants nothing more than hot water surrounding her, and she hops in the shower, and starts singing “Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men because fuck it’s that kind of day.

“I don’t like walking around this old and empty house…” she sings.

“So hold my hand I’ll walk with you my dear.”

Lucy drops the soap.

Did she hear that right? Or was it her imagination?

“The stairs creak, I should sleep, it’s keeping me awake,” she sings, and then waits.

“It’s the house telling you to close your eyes,” comes the response, sung in that now-familiar voice, almost hesitantly, like the person sang back to her without thinking about it and now is unsure if they should continue.

Lucy finds herself, oddly, almost wanting to cry. She doesn’t really have a whole lot of friends here yet, and Amy’s far away, and this is the first real, genuine connection she’s had with someone in ages.

She sings back, and so does the guy on the other side of the wall, and neither of them are ever going to win a karaoke competition, but it doesn’t matter. It’s fun.

After that, they start singing together regularly. Lucy tends to be the one to start the songs but he always knows the words. One time he didn’t join in at all and she found her heart sinking, but then the next day he said, sing-song and making her laugh, that he’d been sick and lost his voice.

She wishes that she could see his face and talk to him, but the walls aren’t quite thin enough to talk at a normal volume and she doesn’t want to have a conversation through shouting. But could she… could she say anything? Should she say anything? Singing with him is so stupid and sappy but it’s the favorite part of her day.

Amy has a solution, because she always does. “You can figure out what apartment number he is,” she says over Skype. “Leave a note in his mailbox or something. Or just go up and knock.”

There’s no way she could leave a note. She’d drive herself nuts waiting for a response.

But just going up and knocking…?

Ugh, fine, fine! She’ll do it, she’ll do it, fine.

According to her calculations, the apartment the man lives in is 21B.

Her legs are shaking as she goes down the hallway, a tray of homemade chocolate chip cookies in hand. Stupid of her to bring these but she wanted to bring something and it was all she could think of and it’s too late to turn back now. She spent an hour pulling her hair up, then down, then up, then curled, then half up, then down again, and now she’s just left it as a pile of messy curls around her face that she hopes look boho cute and not ratty.

It’s now or never. Lucy knocks on the door…

…and a very pretty girl with tan skin and large dark eyes answers. She’s wearing a shirt that says “To Boldly Go” and holding a cup of coffee.

“Oh, my God.” Fuck, does this guy have a girlfriend? Not that it matters, it’s singing together, that’s not—y’know it’s not necessarily even _romantic_ , so it’s not like she was helping someone cheat, maybe she’s been reading this wrong… “I’m so sorry, I didn’t… wrong apartment?”

The girl stares at her. “Who are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy confesses. “I’m sorry, this was stupid, I should…”

The front door of the apartment next to them, 23B, opens and a man steps out. “Jiya, you got my mail aga…” He pauses, looking at Lucy.

Oh, wow. Hi. He’s tall, which she’d imagined, but the rest of him isn’t like she pictured at all and she is… more than okay with that. Dark soft hair, a bit of stubble, dark eyes, definitely handsome…

“Yeah, thanks Flynn.” Jiya takes her mail. “Rufus wants to know if you’re still on for pizza night?” She glances between Flynn and Lucy and adds, “You can come too if you want, if you let me take those cookies.”

“Deal,” she says quickly, thrusting them at Jiya.

“Tomorrow night, seven p.m.,” Jiya says. “And your name is?”

“Lucy,” Lucy says. “I’m Lucy.”

“Great. Oh, and by the way? My boyfriend and I _love_ the duets,” Jiya says with a smirk, and then promptly closes the door in Lucy’s face.

Lucy looks over at Flynn, who is staring at her like she just sprouted wings.

“Hi,” she says, waving awkwardly. “I’m… I’m Lucy, and I’m guessing you’re my duet partner.”

“Um, yes. Yeah, that would be me.” He has an accent that she can’t place but she definitely likes. “I’m Flynn.”

“I wanted to–I thought–I mean, it’s hard to have a conversation through…”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Flynn blurts out. “But the walls—and I wasn’t sure if…”

“No, me neither, same.”

They stare for another awkward moment, and then Flynn opens his front door. “Do you want to come in? I have coffee.”

Lucy smiles, and then Flynn gives her a small, soft, crooked smile back and her heart melts a little. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.”


End file.
